Twelve military heroes Twelve indomitable heroines One UNIFORMLY HOT! miniseries

Don’t miss a story in Mills & Boon® Blaze®’s 12-book continuity series, featuring irresistible soldiers from all branches of the armed forces.

Heat up your holidays with A Few Good Marines…

DEVIL IN DRESS BLUES

by Karen Foley

MODEL MARINE

by Candace Havens

RED-HOT SANTA

by Tori Carrington

Uniformly Hot!— The Few. The Proud. The Sexy as Hell!

Available wherever Mills & Boon®

books are sold.

Dear Reader,

What do you want for Christmas? Dangerous question, depending on who you ask. Of course, if a Red-Hot Santa is involved, I’m thinking many of us might make a nice, long list, if only so we could sit on his lap: again … and again … and again …

In our latest UNIFORMLY HOT! book, Jackson Savage (younger brother of Jason from Undeniable Pleasures) is the epitome of all things steamy … something his longtime best friend Maxine McGuire has always known, but never allowed herself to sample. Until now. But does the mind-blowing chemistry they share between the sheets translate into love? Or is it just GREAT sex?

I hope Jackson and Max’s sexy journey heats up those cold winter nights and that you enjoy this latest Lazarus Security title. We’d love to hear what you think. Contact us at PO Box 12271, Toledo, OH 43612, USA or visit us on the web at www.toricarrington.net or www.facebook.com/toricarrington.

Happy holidays!

Lori & Tony Karayianni aka Tori Carrington

About the Author

RT Book Reviews Career Achievement Award-winning bestselling duo Lori Schlachter Karayianni and Tony Karayianni are the power behind the pen name TORI CARRINGTON. Their more than fifty novels include numerous Mills & Boon® Blaze® miniseries, as well as the ongoing Sofie Metropolis comedic mystery series with another publisher. Visit www.toricarrington.net and www.sofiemetro.com for more information on the couple and their titles.

Red-Hot Santa

Tori Carrington

www.millsandboon.co.uk

We dedicate this book to servicemen and women

in all military branches everywhere for not only

putting their lives on the line on a daily basis,

but for the heartache they must endure when

serving so far away from the ones they love. And

to editor extraordinaire Brenda Chin … just because …

1

HIS BROTHER WAS a dumbass. It was as simple and as complicated as that.

Jackson Savage tugged on the suspenders holding up the too-big red velvet pants he had on over his jeans. He’d stripped out of the red jacket some time ago, leaving him frustrated at being the one who got stuck wearing the Santa suit for the bar’s Christmas party. The hat and shiny black boots remained intact even though he’d prefer to ditch them, as well. But he was scheduled to play Santa later so he thought he’d better keep them on.

Thank God this was his last night working at the bar. Even if his brother wouldn’t be happy about it.

Oh, he knew there were valid reasons his older sibling felt protective of him. Losing their parents at a young age was the biggest of them. Thinking he needed to be a father figure as a result was another. But as far as Jackson was concerned, he’d grown beyond the nose-blowing stage long ago. It was past time Jason took a good look at him and realized he wasn’t a kid anymore.

If his brother didn’t … well, he was afraid he was going to have to kick his ass just to prove his point. And that would be one fight neither of them would walk away from unscathed, he was sure.

Well, that was adult of him, wasn’t it? Jackson grimaced at the asinine thought and swiped the white puff of the Santa hat back from his brow.

Still, nearly four months had passed since he’d proven himself up for the job, not only as a responsible adult and decorated Marine, but solid Lazarus Security material. If taking a bullet for the cause wasn’t enough, what was?

Jackson shoved the glass of draught beer he’d just filled from a tap a little too forcefully, spilling a good inch of it as he served his countless drink at The Barracks that night. He muttered an apology and then wiped the spot, topping off the glass before presenting it to one of the regulars again.

“Hey, Jax, that’s the third time tonight. What’s the matter?” Winston asked. “Trouble with Mrs. Claus?”

Pete, the guy standing next to him, laughed. “There’d have to be a Mrs. Claus in order for there to be trouble with her. No, Jax here’s trouble is that he needs a little … something from a Mrs. Claus candidate.”

Jackson gave a perfunctory laugh. “What I need is a nice, long vacation. Preferably somewhere warm. Where someone else serves me.”

Genie, one of the three waitresses, stepped up to the bar in her Santa hat, too-tight white tank and red velvet shorts trimmed in white fur, The Barracks’ holiday uniform even if it was December and ten below outside. “I’ll wait on you,” she offered with her trademark purr.

Pete gave a low whistle. “Son, if I were you, I’d be all over that.”

“Against bar policy,” Jackson said absently.

Even if it wasn’t, it was against his personal policy. He made it a point not to sleep with coworkers. He’d seen his fair share of bad episodes when things went south—as they inevitably did. South? On one unforgettable occasion, he’d ended up with a psycho bitch from hell stalking him because he’d given in to temptation and slept with her one night. It was all he’d been in the market for at the time. Apparently, she’d had other ideas. And when sweet persuasion hadn’t worked, she’d resorted to other more disturbing measures to prove her love for him.

No way was he going that route again.

No matter how difficult his hot coworkers sometimes made it for him. He looked over Genie’s generous curves and then up at her suggestive smile. She made his four-month-old wound itch.

But that’s not why he was there. His tending bar was really only a way to keep himself occupied until his brother came around. Yeah, it helped pay the bills, but considering the large, structured settlement and trust fund he and Jason had received upon their parents’ deaths, he didn’t need the money.

Still, he’d barely touched his bank account, gaining a certain satisfaction in supporting himself and his day-to-day expenses with his income. Right now, his life resembled some sort of airplane holding pattern. He only hoped he’d be cleared for landing soon, because he didn’t know how much fuel he had left before he crashed.

He checked his cell phone, knowing as he did who he was hoping he’d find a call or text from. And, strangely enough, it wasn’t his brother. He’d smiled when Max McGuire’s missed call had popped up in this display. She hadn’t left a message, but that was no surprise; she never did.

Max …

His movements slowed as he realized he missed her.

It had been a while since they’d spoken. The last time he’d talked to her, she’d been somewhere out in the Pacific Northwest working for some sort of high-end security firm. Their longtime friendship had always gone through ebbs and flows, with stretches where an occasional phone call was the name of the game.

Then there were the times when they’d been “thick as thieves,” as Gram liked to say, nearly inseparable.

Of course, the physical distance between them currently prevented that.

Still, over the years they made sure to carve out some together time, meeting for at least a few days to catch up, usually on some sort of physical adventure, like mountain climbing or wild water kayaking.

He thought he should call her back, maybe see about scheduling just such a trip soon. Or perhaps he’d go visit her, see what she was up to and how life was treating her.

Jackson told his boss, Chuck, that he was taking his break. He grabbed his leather jacket and let himself out from behind the bar. He returned a few greetings as he walked to the back and then through the door leading to the alley behind the row of buildings. He leaned against the cold brick and shoved his hands deep into his jacket pockets. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. It was at times like these he wished he still smoked.

“Hey,” a female said next to him.

He hadn’t realized anyone else was out here. “Hey,” he said without opening his eyes.

“Cold out, huh?”

If he hadn’t been able to tell by her deep inhale, the acrid scent of cigarette smoke would have revealed what she was doing.

“That it is,” he said.

“You work here?”

“Yeah.”

“This is my first time at this bar.” He heard her shoes shuffle in the salt they put down as a de-icer. “My friends suggested it. I haven’t been inside yet …”

Her voice sounded familiar.

He cracked his eyelids open and openly regarded the pretty redhead.

Holy shit.

“Max? Is that you?”

FOR A MOMENT Maxine McGuire was afraid Jackson wouldn’t recognize her. And that was beyond stupid, really. He was her best friend. They’d pretty well grown up together on the farm as kids, and had been together again for a brief stint when they’d been stationed overseas in the Marines. But it had been a good two years since their physical paths last crossed, despite their sometimes lengthy telephone conversations. And while she wasn’t about to tell him, a big part of the reason she’d chosen The Barracks as the place to meet her old high school friends, instead of the countless other bars in the military hub of Colorado Springs, Colorado, was because Jackson tended there.

For reasons she couldn’t fathom, she always experienced a spark of fear he wouldn’t recognize her. That too much time had passed, or maybe he was otherwise occupied …

Liar.

She knew why she felt that way. Or she had an idea anyway.

While they’d always been close friends, she realized she’d always been more than a little bit in love with him. And the worst thing that could ever happen would be that he wouldn’t recognize her. Or that she’d look at him and see indifference in his eyes.

Not that she ever had.

Still, she was pathetic. And it was that very self-esteem issue she hoped to finally nip totally in the bud.

Her relationship with Jax was the only area in her life she experienced such vulnerable emotions. Otherwise she was confident, strong and knew exactly where she was at any given moment and where she was going.

“Hey, Jax,” she said, hoping the smile that warmed her to her toes wasn’t too obvious.

He stared at her for a full minute and then pushed from the building. She stiffened as he gave her a hug. It was silly, really, because he’d always given her the same, brotherly greeting.

The problem was that her reaction had never been quite the sisterly one he was going for.

Not that he ever appeared to have a clue.

Of course, she knew she was the primary reason for that. She’d never let him in on her true feelings.

“I was just thinking about you,” he said. “You called the other day but didn’t leave a message.”

“I never leave a message.”

His chuckle tickled her ear. “Yeah, I know.”

He stepped back and looked her over, as if seeing her for the first time. It was all she could do to maintain his gaze, and not to pat down her too curly hair.

“You look good,” he said.

“Thanks. So do you.”

She took another hit off the cigarette—her first in almost two years—and then flicked it to the ground farther down the alley.

How old had she been when they first met? Five? Six? She and her mom had just moved in with her aunt after her parents’ breakup and she’d run away. It was the first of many doomed attempts, complete with a stick to ward off unwanted critters, the end tied with a handkerchief that held a sandwich, her favorite paperback novel and a pack of matches.

It had probably taken her a whole half hour to reach the Savage barn on the neighboring property, but everything was relative and she could have sworn it had been five hours and that she’d reached the border of New Mexico, at least.

She’d just spread out her handkerchief on the fresh straw, sat on it and opened her sandwich when a shadow fell across the open doorway. There stood Jackson Savage, no older than her, arms crossed over his chest. He’d told her in no uncertain terms she was on private property and that meant she was trespassing.

So she’d gathered up her things and began to stalk from the barn. He’d caught her by the arms and told her he was just kidding … then introduced himself.

She’d wasted no time tackling him to the ground and punching him. Then she’d grabbed her stick and continued on her way.

And so began their lifelong friendship, as he liked to say whenever he told the story, usually adding a bloody nose to the equation. Namely, his.

For her, well … she’d fallen in love on the spot. And she’d always found some sort of asinine way to cover up the unwanted emotion … until now.

Now she was determined to let him know exactly what she had in mind … and exactly how she felt. But she’d take it slow, hoping it would guarantee something enduring … and not send him running flat out in the opposite direction.

The reason for her change of mind? She’d come to realize there was no going forward in any of her relationships until she went back.

“I’d better get inside,” she said, giving him her best smile.

She slowly slid a piece of gum into her mouth and then offered him a piece. He appeared so distracted by her movements, he didn’t even see the gum.

“What? Oh. Yeah. Me, too.”

She was self-conscious as she led the way back inside, forcing herself not to fight him over control of the door. She slipped out of her coat as she walked with slow, measured steps, satisfied at the sound of his breath hissing through his teeth. Yeah, she looked good in the tight jeans and low-cut shirt she had on. She knew that. And she was pleased that he did, too.

“Here, I’ll stash your coat behind the bar with mine,” he said.

“Thanks.” She handed her jacket over, put on her Santa hat and then applied lip-gloss. She slid the tube into a tiny inside pocket of her jeans. “I haven’t seen some of these friends for years. How do I look?” she asked.

“Huh?” It seemed to take him a moment to register her question. “Oh. Great. Fine. You look good.”

Great to fine to good. Definitely the wrong direction.

But that was Jax for you. Getting a compliment from him had always been like pulling teeth.

Good thing she’d recently decided he needed to make an appointment with the dentist …

Friends. Best friends. That’s what they’d always been. He’d had her back, and she’d had his. When neither of them were in a relationship, they’d sought out each other for company. Platonic company. From swimming in the Keys, kayaking the Colorado River, day-long hikes through whatever remote forest they could find, she’d always enjoyed his company. Sometimes they’d talk about their struggles with understanding the opposite sex, as if they didn’t qualify for the status, but most times they joked, challenged and dared each other.

Then there’d been those occasions when simple platonic affection had threatened to balloon into much more …

Merely remembering the times they’d wrestled around on the ground, or playfully tussled in the water, her sexual awareness taking her breath away, made her all hot and bothered.

Jackson … well, Jackson was as hot as they came. All golden haired goods looks and animal magnetism.

But it was much more than that. Much, much more. She knew what the man himself was made of. She knew that beating in his chest was a heart of gold that left him loyal to his family, doing anything for his grandmother and brother Jason … and loyal to his friends. She knew he’d be the first to stand in the face of danger, to put his life on the line if he knew it might save someone else’s.

It was in those moments when barriers dropped, that she glimpsed what life might be like for them as a couple …

And she’d turned away, always refusing herself the indulgence. She was afraid of the enormity of her emotions, afraid of tarnishing their friendship.

And afraid of leaving herself vulnerable. While threat of physical pain had never fazed her, leaving her heart exposed and unprotected scared the living daylights out of her.

If only because she’d witnessed firsthand what it had done to her mother.

Done to their family.

Now …

Well, now was different. She was no longer that rebellious girl who’d run away and holed up in his barn. The girl afraid of her emotions … and of him.

Now she wanted to push that envelope, dive into those depths, explore them, face her one and only fear.

She needed to learn that untouched side of her, the one she’d ignored, neglected and tried to shut out.

She needed to feel him …

HOLY SHIT.

The two words wound around Jackson’s brain as he watched Max sitting with her friends. He kept looking for reasons to talk to her but there never seemed to be an opportunity, considering one nonstop flow of thirsty customers who kept him busy. And he never saw her go out back for another smoke break.

He scratched his head as he rang up the latest order, looking for her again in the smoky mirror behind the bar. She was standing in front of the old fashioned jukebox considering the selections. His gaze fell to her nicely rounded backside and then up to where the soft cotton of her top clung to breasts fuller than he remembered. His back stiffened as he watched a guy approach her. Not just any guy, but Tom, whom they referred to as the bar “manwhore.” Just the type Max would hate on sight.

He braced himself, wondering if Tom would take it to the head or the gut.

Here it comes …

He watched as Tom not too nonchalantly slid his hand over her back, down toward her bottom. Max easily avoided the move and actually smiled before heading back to her table.

Jackson blinked. Who was this woman? She looked the same. Well, for the most part. The red curls were the same except they appeared smoother, somehow. Less wild. Her eyes were the same green but appeared brighter. And was she wearing makeup?

Jackson was confused. The Max he knew wouldn’t be caught dead in that sexy outfit, not before or during her stint in the Marines, much less handle what she just had with smiling ease. She’d have been much more likely to twist the guy’s arm behind his back and shove his face into the jukebox until he apologized for the unwanted advance.

Jackson met her gaze in the mirror and that mysterious smile she’d been offering him all night made a command appearance.

Holy shit.

Where was the easy camaraderie they always enjoyed? The knowing that came along with their lifelong friendship?

Christ, he felt like a twelve-year-old kid in the throes of his first crush.

And that was not something he was used to feeling toward a woman who was essentially his best friend.

Hell, it wasn’t something he was used to feeling, period.

This went well beyond physical attraction—which should be enough to cause concern when it came to Max …

His brain froze.

No way he was going where his thoughts and unfamiliar emotions were attempting to lead him. It was bad enough he recognized the desire to touch her in ways he never had before. To consider anything more would be akin to emotional suicide.

“Hey, did you get that, Savage?” Chuck asked.

He blinked at the bar owner. As en ex-Marine, Chuck Thomas had a healthy respect for military kindred and ran a tight operation. When things got busy, so did he. Of course, it didn’t help that Chuck wasn’t happy Jackson would no longer be working at the bar. He’d made noises about looking to sell the place, and admitted he had hoped Jackson might be interested. Jackson had been surprised, but quick to tell Chuck it wasn’t in the cards for him.

“Sorry,” he said to his taciturn boss now, keeping the peace. “I was working up the last order. Afraid I overcharged.”

“Better than under. I asked for two pitchers of light and six glasses. Can you handle it?”

“Got it.”

Jackson took a deep breath, telling himself he really needed to get a grip. This was Max, for Pete’s sake. It wasn’t like he didn’t know her. And Lord knew he’d never reacted this way toward her before. She was like a sister to him, for crying out loud.

He cleared his throat. Oh, yeah? If she was like a sister, then certain body parts told him what he was contemplating was very, very wrong, indeed.

“Hey, Jax.”

Her greeting nearly caused him to spill the pitcher he’d just filled. He put it on a tray along with the other one.

“Hey,” he said.

He finished the order and Genie picked up the tray. He didn’t miss the long look she gave Max.

“I’ve been meaning to ask, when did you get back into town?” he asked. It couldn’t have been long. He’d have heard something before now. Then he remembered her phone call. “The last I knew, you were kicking around Oregon.”

“Washington.”

He smiled. “Close enough.”

“Yeah.” She pushed up her sleeves, drawing his attention to the too-tight top and the full breasts underneath. Had she always had those? Why hadn’t he noticed before? “I got back late last week.”

“Staying long?”

She tilted her head. “Don’t know yet. Depends …”

He met her gaze, seeing a question in there he didn’t quite know how to interpret. Then again, he was having a hard time reading her tonight, period. Or, rather, he was finding it impossible to read his new, unfamiliar reaction to her.

“On what?”

“On whether or not I can scare up some work. You wouldn’t happen to have a line on anything, would you?”

“What are you looking for?”

“Something I’m qualified for that doesn’t require I learn how to use a beer tap. No offense.”

He grinned. “None taken.” He ignored Chuck’s shout for him to get a move on. “Tonight’s my last night. I start at Pegasus Security tomorrow.”

“Pegasus? Is that Jason’s place?”

It seemed she’d been around long enough to hear what his brother had been up to. Small towns were like that. “No. That’s Lazarus.”

Her full lips twisted a bit, likely seeing more than he was comfortable with just then.

He cleared his throat. “Anyway, Pegasus is actively looking for people with your job skills if you want to check them out.”

“Great. Thanks.”

He found himself staring at her yet again. What was up with him? He hadn’t been this quiet since Jason had tried to superglue his tongue to the roof of his mouth when he was five.

“I was wondering …” she said.

He forced himself to blink up into her eyes. He wondered if she’d caught him staring again at her chest. “Wondering, um, what?”

“Can you give me a ride home later?”

It took a moment for her question to register. The fact that he was trying hard as hell not to look back at her breasts wasn’t helping matters any, either. “Where?”

“My aunt’s.”

He dragged the back of his wrist across his brow. Was he sweating? “You’re staying at your aunt’s?”

She nodded. “She dropped me off, but if you’re going out to your grandmother’s, well, it’d be easier than asking one of the girls to run me all the way back out there.”

He hadn’t planned to go to Gram’s tonight—there was a small apartment above the bar he rented—but the idea of spending uninterrupted time with Max so he could figure out what the hell was going on between them was too tempting to pass up.

“Sure. It’ll probably be late, since I’m closing.”

“That’s fine. I can wait.” She smiled that smile again and his jeans tightened. He adjusted the suspenders, happy for the first time that night to be wearing the blasted, baggy Santa pants. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

“No problem.”

“Talk to you later, then.”

“Yeah … later.”

His response came after she’d already turned to walk back to her table, the view of her backside just as enticing as the view of her front.

There was chuckling down the bar. He glanced over at Winston and Pete.

“Hey, Jax,” they called out. “You finally going to take care of that little problem?”

They both gave him a thumbs-up as he turned to walk down to the other end of the bar where there were other customers waiting to be served …

2

MAXINE ENJOYED CATCHING UP with her old girlfriends from high school. She might be as different as light and shadow from them, but she was pleasantly surprised they were connected in a comforting way. She’d spent so much time fraternizing with the guys in recent years—partly because she’d believed them easier to be around, mostly because as a female in the military, guys were what you tended to be around most—she’d forgotten how nice it was to have a drink with girlfriends.

Patience Saunders had been a varsity football cheerleader and an unlikely but fun friend. Her athletic ability had extended beyond short skirts and pom-poms so she and Max had participated in many of the same sports. Max wasn’t surprised she was now a Phys Ed teacher at the same grammar school they’d once attended … or that she was married with two kids under two.

Julie and Jae Jennings were identical twins but had gone out of their way to disguise that fact even when their mother had tried to dress them alike as kids. When Jae had stumbled across goth fashion, she’d latched on to it tightly, and even now favored black nail polish and hinted at body piercings beyond the one visible on her left nostril.

Still, as much as Max was enjoying catching up with them, her gaze endlessly trailed to the man behind the bar, noting how’d he changed … and how her feelings had stayed the same.

“God, Jax is still as hot as he was in high school, isn’t he?” Patience said with a sigh, propping her chin in her palm as she watched the man in question.

“Is he ever,” Julie echoed.

Jae gave an eye roll and downed her third shot of Jaeger. “You guys always were about as subtle as a bulldozer.”

“What?” Patience asked, batting her eyes in feigned innocence.

“You don’t think he knows y’all are staring at him like a pack of bitches in heat?”

Julie nearly choked on the red wine she was in the middle of swallowing.

“Didn’t you two used to have something?” Patience asked, turning to Max.

Max knew a moment of panic, just as she always did when someone made a similar inquiry, afraid her expression or body language had given something away. Then she realized her friends weren’t being specific and relaxed. “Who? Me and Jax?” She shook her head. “Nah. We were just good friends. We still are.”

Jae snorted. “Right. That’s why the place nearly bursts into flames every time you two look at each other. I had to take off my jacket so I wouldn’t burn up.”

“What’s he doing now?”

Max followed Julie’s gaze to where Jax was putting on a Santa Claus coat and coming out from behind the bar. The waitress in the skimpy uniform took great pleasure in helping fix his hat.

“Looks like Santa’s about to give someone what they want,” Jae said drily …

CHUCK MADE THE announcement that Santa was going to take requests and have pictures taken for a $5 donation to the veterans fund. Jackson put the red jacket back on, but left it open; hell, he’d boil alive if he closed it.

Of course, Genie made him regret the decision when she sidled up to him, playing role of “helper” a little too overtly for his liking. She slid her hands inside the coat and gave him a sexy snuggle before reaching up to straighten his cap. Her flirty moves earned hoots and hollers from the guys, but all he could do was look beyond her to where Max was watching the display with an amused smile on her beautiful face.

“Hey, I wanna sit on Santa’s helper’s lap,” Pete shouted.

“That’ll cost you a hundred,” Chuck told him.

They all laughed as Genie pulled up a chair next to the jukebox and pushed Jackson back to sit in it. Given her moves, he was half afraid she was going to strip off what little of her holiday outfit she wore, but instead she turned and along with the other two waitresses, went around the room collecting money from the patrons.

For the next half hour, Jackson was squashed by several of the heavier guys, slobbered on by the drunken wife of another and then sat staring at where Patience Saunders stood behind a smiling Max. He thought the night would never be over.

Then, before he could prepare himself, Max was sitting in his lap. And evidence of his instant arousal was pressed against her hot bottom …

MAX WAS UNPREPARED for Patience’s none too subtle shove. She grabbed onto Jax’s shoulders to keep from sliding off his lap, the hard length of his manhood through his clothing telling her things he might not have revealed in any other way.

Okay, so maybe she’d had one brew too many. But he hadn’t had any. And the way he looked at her this up close and personal told her that Jae may have been a little closer to the mark than she realized: Jackson Savage wanted her.

The recognition was more intoxicating than anything this bar could offer.

Max caught herself licking her lips and stopped. She’d been here before, this mysterious place when her body betrayed her true emotions for the man beneath her. Awareness surged everywhere their bodies made contact swirling, through her bloodstream, tightening her nipples and dampening her inner thighs.

This was usually the point—where the spark of arousal promised to blaze into much more—when she would withdraw, physically and emotionally, putting much needed distance between them.

But this time …

She merely sat, holding his gaze, allowing the sizzling current to bond them in a way she never had before.

“So …” he said so quietly she nearly didn’t hear him, his hands hot on her hips.

She watched his pupils dilate in his blue eyes and the way his gaze seemed drawn to her mouth.

“What do you, um, want …?”

What would happen if she told him? If she said she wanted to be sitting on his lap, with no clothes between them? To feel his hard length inside her rather than pressing against her? To see if his mouth tasted as good as it looked?

To know if the longing she’d felt for him for so long was purely physical … or if it was much much more.

A flashbulb went off.

For a minute, Max thought it might be something of her own conjuring, but when she followed Jackson’s stare to the bar bunny waitress who’d just taken their picture, she knew it wasn’t.

She’d come home to Colorado to find the truth.

She’d either finally pursue her unspoken feelings for Jackson, or squash them altogether. It was time for her to move on, one way or the other. Still, she just wasn’t prepared to do that in front of God and everyone.

She also wasn’t prepared for what she felt for her to burgeon even further, nearly overwhelming her, blotting out all else until a camera flash snapped her back to reality.

Had she really nearly kissed him in the middle of a bar while everyone watched?

Yes, she realized, she had.

She moved to get to her feet. Jackson helped her, standing up, as well. She noticed the way he plucked at his suit even as she smoothed her damp palms over her jeans.

“Okay, everyone, that’s all for now. Santa’s got work to do,” he said.

And so did she, Max silently noted.

Because if he’d given away what he had in that one moment, she could only imagine what she had.

Then again, isn’t that what she wanted? For him to see how she truly felt?

Yes. It was.

But suddenly the prospect scared her more than anything she’d ever encountered … up to and including her stint in the military.

Whatever had she left herself open for?

3

MAXINE PRIDED HERSELF on holding her own with the guys when it came to drinking. So she was really surprised that by the time the bar closed, she was feeling a little woozy. She couldn’t remember having all that much to drink, but the way she was feeling told her that maybe she’d had one too many.

The girls had left a little earlier, smiling at her in a way that seemed to suggest they knew what was going to happen. Of course, that put them ahead of the game, because she wasn’t all too sure what to expect, herself.

She caught sight of Jax moving in her direction and straightened in her chair. This so wasn’t how she’d planned to feel during their first stretch of time alone together.

He, on the other hand, looked as actively hot as he had earlier in the evening. It was more than his thick shock of dark blond hair that always appeared in need of a comb, and his warm blue eyes that always made her think of summer skies and how much she craved the heat. He looked as if he was ready for anything and everything … especially a long, thorough roll in the hay.

Of course, his brief role playing Santa to all the girls in the place, including her and her friends, had left her feeling more than a little hot and bothered. She’d been so tongue-tied, she hadn’t been able to tell him what she really wanted.

“You ready?” he asked.

It took her a moment to realize he was talking about the ride he was giving her to her aunt’s house. Not her secret Santa wish. Damn.

“Oh. Yes.” She smiled.

As he got their coats from behind the bar, she was aware of the bar owner’s attention on them.

“Good night,” she called.

“Good night, Maxi. Nice to see you again. Will you be back here tomorrow night?”

She waved noncommittally and led the way out.

The early morning air was still and cold. She couldn’t remember a time she’d experienced such quiet. Perhaps because it contrasted so greatly with the riotous emotions roiling inside of her.

Her brief contact with Jax earlier, when she’d realized he wanted her—at least physically—left her breathless … and more than a little scared.

It was one thing to mentally decide on a course of action; quite another, indeed, to actually embark on it.

She started toward where his truck was parked in the lot but found he wasn’t behind her.

“I need to see to Cleo first,” he said.

She stopped dead in her tracks. Cleo?

He grinned at her. “I rent the place above the bar.”

“I don’t understand. This is where you live?”

“Most nights. When I have a day off, I go out to Gram’s, but this …” He gestured toward the wooden stairs leading up to a second story door. “This is my home away from home.”

She followed him up. “And Cleo?”

“You’re going to love her.”

Max winced. She was sure whoever Cleo was, she was not going to love her. She’d hated everyone Jax had dated before. What would make this one any different? Especially since she appeared to live with him.

Double damn.

“Why did you agree to take me home if you weren’t going that way?” she asked, trying to figure out what her options were. Truly, she’d preferred not to be stuck in a truck with him for a half hour if his heart already belonged to someone else.

“I haven’t seen you in two years. Did you really expect me to say no?” He took keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door. “Besides, it’s no big deal. I’ll just crash at Gram’s tonight.”

A soft breeze brought the tang of his aftershave to her nose. She took a deep breath; she’d always loved the way he smelled.

He held out a hand to stay her. “You may want to step back for a minute while Cleo greets me.”

Great. She was going to have to watch another woman throw herself into his arms.

He squared his stance and then opened the door. Max watched a female throw herself into his arms, all right. Or, rather, climb up into them.

She laughed as a black feline, more kitten than cat, climbed Jax like a tree, not stopping until she was safe in his arms and nudging her chin against his.

“Cleo,” Jax said, “I want you to meet Max. Max …” He turned and smiled at her even as he scratched the cat behind the ears. “This is Cleo.”

Max leaned forward, wondering if her relief was obvious, but not really caring. She was just happy Cleo wasn’t a six foot blonde with model good looks she’d have to add to the top of her Most Hated list.

“Hey, Cleo,” she said softly, holding her hand palm down so the cat could take a whiff of her. Then just as sweet as you please, Cleo rubbed up against the digits, her rumbling purr audible. Max ran her hand along her soft, warm fur.

“I would never have figured you for a cat person.”

“I’m not.”

Jax walked inside the apartment and Max followed. He switched on a light and closed the door behind them before placing the cat on the back of a chair.

“Long story short, Cleo is Gram’s. She’s just visiting while Gram takes a vacation.”

“Vacation?”

He grimaced. “Yeah. She went on a cruise and won’t be back until next week.” He walked toward the back and switched on another light to what looked like the kitchen.

“I’m surprised she didn’t leave her in the barn.”

“Yeah, well, Cleo isn’t a barn cat, exactly …” He adjusted what appeared to be a thermostat on the wall. “The heat shouldn’t take but a minute.”

“I’m fine. I’ve been through worse.”

He looked at her. “Yeah. We both have, I think. Easy to forget that sometimes.”

He disappeared into the other room. Max stared at Cleo who stared back, at least until she heard the sound of food hitting a bowl. Then she was off like a shot, skidding to a stop on the kitchen tile.

Max unzipped her leather jacket and looked around the place. Hell, it was neater than hers. And while the black, contemporary furnishings may have come with the place, the small touches did not. There were books in the case, a plant on the floor and photos in frames on the shelves. She stepped nearer, easily recognizing Jax’s grandmother and brother Jason in the pictures. And then she spied one of herself …

Her heart skipped a beat as she picked up the simple four-by-six-inch frame of a photo shot taken about five years ago while they were serving together. They were both in desert fatigues and Jax had draped his arm casually over her shoulders.

There was nothing casual, however, about the way she smiled at him.

She squinted at her expression. How was it possible he never knew?

Then it occurred to her he had known. He just hadn’t returned her feelings.

“Long time ago, huh?” he asked, coming to stand beside her.

“Huh?” She awkwardly put the frame back down. “Um, yeah. A different lifetime, it seems.”

He ran his hand over his hair. “Yeah.”

She stared into his face, wondering if she was just being stupid or if she’d been made that way. She started to ask if he was ready, when she noticed he’d taken off his coat, most likely leaving it in the kitchen.

“Maxi?”

“Huh?”

Jax grinned at her. “That’s what Chuck called you back at the bar.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Was it her, or was it suddenly warmer in here?

“I’m surprised it didn’t rate at least one of your famous sneers. It would have in the past.”

She laughed, remembering all the names she’d been called in elementary school, Maxi Pad being by far the worst. She doubted she had to remind him of that, since he’d fought right alongside her a couple of times.

“That was until I was arrested for assault.”

He lifted a brow.

“Joking. I’m joking.” She shifted on her feet, noticing the way he looked at the front of her jacket as if trying to see what lay underneath. “People seem to prefer to call me Maxi … so I let them.”

He didn’t say anything for a long moment and then he cleared his throat. “It suits you.”

“Yeah, well, that doesn’t mean you get to call me that. I’m still Max to you. Try calling me anything else and you’ll earn more than a sneer.”

They both laughed, but as soon as the moment passed, she became all too aware that they were alone. Together. In his apartment. After midnight.

Her heart beat an irregular rhythm in her chest and she swore she could actually hear her blood rushing through her veins like water through a pipe. How dumb she’d been to think a tight pair of jeans and push-up bra would be enough to get his attention when nearly twenty years of clothing changes had not.

She ran her tongue over her dry lips. “I guess we’d better get going …”

Jax met her gaze solidly and didn’t say anything for a long moment. She shoved her hands deeper into her jacket pockets and burrowed into the black leather.

“Listen, why don’t you spend the night …” he said, his voice trailing.

She looked around nervously. There was only the one bedroom that she could see.

“The couch is a queen sleeper.”

She turned back toward him.

“I know I told you I’d take you, and if you insist, of course, I will. But now that we’re here and warm …”

Warm …

No, she was hot. Sweltering hot. And her state had nothing to do with the temperature outside.

“Here,” he said. “Let me take your coat.”

He reached to presumably help her take it off. She automatically started to shrug off the attention, then instead took a deep breath, turned and allowed him to help her.

Was it her, or did his fingers linger just that much longer at the nape of her neck? Skim down her arms when no contact was needed?

She swallowed thickly and swiveled back to face him, every inch of her yearning to feel him touch her more purposefully, more meaningfully, starting with a kiss …

“Max?”

Her name was little more than a whisper. Her gaze fell to his mouth, a mouth she’d seen a million times before, but had never so badly wanted to feel it against hers.

She was sure if he didn’t kiss her right then and there she’d self-combust, leaving only the tiny particles that would scatter in the stiff winter breeze, leaving no hint she’d ever existed.

What scared her even more was that she was afraid the same might happen if he did kiss her …

4

JACKSON SWORE HE could still feel her hot bottom on his lap.

He grimaced and shifted uncomfortably, no longer wearing the Santa pants to hide the telltale signs of arousal. Her wiggling against him had left him far more turned on than he would ever have expected back at the bar. He wasn’t sure he’d completely recovered from the moment.

Who was he kidding? The only thing responsible for his mental meanderings now was the sexy woman standing in front of him. Someone who had once been very familiar, but now seemed more like a stranger.

It didn’t make any sense. Max had always been … well, Max. What in the hell had happened to her in the past two years to turn her into this tantalizing parcel of hotness?

One minute he’d been counting off the seconds when his brief stint as Barracks’ Santa would end and … the next, she’d stepped in front of him, hands on her curvy hips, and time had ground to a halt.

He’d had at least twenty women sit on his lap before her, not all of them innocently (Genie had wriggled so suggestively she’d nearly injured him). But the idea of letting Max climb on board had left him so tongue-tied, he’d barely been able to speak.

And now he’d just suggested she spend the night …

If he knew what was good for him, he’d grab his coat and drive her sweet bottom to her aunt’s place. Now.

But at that moment he didn’t care much about what was good for him. He was too focused on what he wanted. And right now, he wanted her …

She licked her full lips in the same way that had driven him to distraction earlier. He nearly groaned at sight of her pink tongue dipping out between her straight, smooth teeth, her actions causing the plump flesh to glisten.

“Are you sure this is a good idea …?”

The question was said so quietly, he nearly didn’t hear it.

But he had …

And his answer was to do what he’d been wanting to all night: kiss her.

OH … SWEET … SALVATION …

The last thing Max expected was for Jax to kiss her. She may have wanted it—wanted it? She craved it to the pads of her feet—but she’d somehow managed to convince herself that not only was he not interested in kissing her, he’d be offended if she kissed him.

Yet now his hot mouth pressed against hers, his tongue seeking entrance. Permission all too willingly granted.

Oh, yes …

His kiss was even sexier than she imagined it might be. And that was saying a lot considering she’d done a whole lot of imagining over the past decade and a half, her fantasy abilities growing with each chronological milestone she reached, every intimate experience she encountered.

This one kiss was better than all the kisses she’d ever enjoyed … combined.

What was that humming sound? Oh. It was her. And not only was she making strange, hungry noises, she was leaning into him …

Oh, was she ever leaning into him.

Max snaked her arms under his and made full-on contact, her fingers digging into the back of his denim shirt. If there had been any question of his physical awareness of her earlier, there was no mistaking it now: his hard length pressed insistently against her lower belly, telling her in no uncertain terms where he most wanted to be.

Exactly where she wanted him to be.

He caught her by the shoulders, as out of breath as she was. “Wait, wait, wait …”

She didn’t want to wait. She’d waited long enough.

“This is … crazy … insane …”

She nodded. It was.

“Where did this come from? We’ve never …”

She was incapable of words. Hell, just then, she was incapable of breathing worth a damn.

“We’re friends.”

She smiled at that. “Yes, we are.”

He was her best friend. The one person in the entire world she’d always known she could turn to if she needed anyone, someone to talk to about whatever was bothering her …

Until now. Now, she couldn’t have uttered a word if she tried.

“I don’t want … I mean, the last thing …”

He released her shoulders and she felt as if he’d just dropped her onto her face from a second story balcony.

She watched him pace away, then back again, running his hands through his hair again and again.

“This is nuts. We’re friends. I don’t want to lose that.”

“Who says we have to?”

He stopped five feet away and stared at her. “Is this a good idea?” he asked, searching her face.

“I don’t know,” she whispered. “But it feels …”

Good? Phenomenal? Incredible?

She barely heard his groan before he placed his hands on either side of her face and kissed her again, this time within an inch of her life.

Yes …

Red-hot sensation swept over her, making her feel everything, yet nothing at all except a deep, needful hunger for his tongue against hers. She tunneled her fingers under his T-shirt, running them along his sides before curving them against his back, holding tight. So good, so right. So hot …

She gasped when she felt him slide his hands under her shirt, his knuckles grazing her stomach before he cupped both her breasts through her bra, then worked his way under it. As his thumbs rasped over her stiff nipples, fireworks erupted, unleashing a flood of emotion that weakened her bones, leaving her completely dependent on him to hold her upright.

He ripped his mouth from hers and bent his head, licking each of her nipples, squeezing her breasts just short of the brink of pain before drawing her right nipple deep into the hot depths of his mouth.

Max stretched her neck and moaned as he licked and sucked, the pool of need between her thighs deepening, widening, until she was sure she had creamed through her jeans.

She breathlessly cradled his head in her hands and drew him back up, kissing him hard, unable to get enough of him. He tasted, felt, smelled so good. Better than any one man had a right to.

Unable to stop herself, she slid her hand down between them, not stopping until she cupped the hard ridge of his sex under his jeans. She moaned at the thick length of him. Needing to feel more, she popped the steel buttons, not stopping until her fingers were inside his boxers and she held his throbbing flesh in her palm.

Oh, sweet hell …

She stroked him almost reverently, then squeezed, as if claiming possession.

His low groan fed her need.

As if he couldn’t wait any longer, he opened the front of her jeans and pushed the denim over her hips, half taking her panties right with them. She stepped out of one leg and was about to step out of the other when he cupped her crotch, and stopped her breath.

He dragged his mouth from hers, his groan deeper. “God, you’re so wet, so hot …”

Fingers sought and found access to the source of her heat. When his thumb grazed her clit, she bit on her bottom lip to keep from crying out. When that same thumb worked back and forth over her slick vagina, then thrust up deep inside her, she couldn’t do anything but cry out, clutching his shoulders for dear life.

As she staved off orgasm with little hope of succeeding, she absently wondered why all this seemed so new to her … so powerful. Surely, she’d known her fair share of lovers, beginning with Johnny Denton on the couch in the basement of his parents’ house just before her eighteenth birthday. Sure, the event hadn’t been anything memorable … and thankfully she’d been curious enough to push on to her next lover, determined to discover what everybody was raving about.

But this …

This …

She cried out his name, coming so hard she was sure the only thing supporting her was his hand and the phenomenal things it was doing to her between her legs.

“Oh my God …” she murmured again and again.

She kissed him lingeringly as he continued to stroke her.

Then he grasped her womanhood solidly in his hand. “I want you.” His kiss gained momentum. “I want to feel you, be inside you …”

Yes.

Max wasn’t sure if she’d merely thought the word or said it, but her response was unmistakable.

He backed her toward the bedroom and she went, pushing back his denim shirt and tugging up his T-shirt as they went, not finishing one before moving onto the other while he did the same with her coat and top and bra. They reached for each other’s jeans at the same time, fumbling until they gave up and did their own, hers still wrapped around one ankle as they tumbled to the bed.

Hurry, she wanted to whisper, before he changed his mind again.

Then, finally, he was sheathed and sliding into her to the hilt.

Max’s back came up off the bed and her lungs seized, refusing air, a dark, throbbing heat diving deep, taking hold of her, making her tremble. She didn’t think she’d ever known such a complete, utter connection with another human being. Until now. He filled her not only physically, but she felt inextricably joined with him in ways that transcended description.

He moved and a moan ripped from her throat from an untouched place she didn’t recognize. It might have scared her if it were anyone else but Jax. But it was Jax. And he was all she’d ever need.

JACKSON HADN’T FELT the need to come so fast since he was a teen groping one of the Pearson twins in the cab of Gram’s old Chevy truck.

No, not even then …

He took in the intoxicating expression of the woman under him thinking there was no way this could be his Max. Surely by now she should have batted him about the ears. Pushed him away and told him she was just joking.

But it was Max, and he was about to lose it totally …

Quick, what were the delay tactics he used to employ? Mentally disassembling his M-16 used to do the trick, but when he thought about his gun, all he could see was his thick shaft sinking into Max’s sweet flesh inch by inch.

He grit his back teeth together and froze, his arms threatening to give out from under him where he held himself above her. Please don’t let her move, please don’t let her …

She moved.

Damn molten lava, he was going to lose it …

He did.

And there was absolutely no way he could disguise the fact that he did. The requisite groan, giveaway stiffness and telltale jerking filled out the picture, putting him solidly back in that truck cab.

Only it wasn’t a Pearson twin he was with, it was Max.

He collapsed against her, his face buried in the bedding over her shoulder, in a state of shock. Hell, she had to think him either a complete dork with no experience, or selfish beyond compare.

He felt her hands on his back, then heard her quiet giggle in his ear.

Jackson raised his brows as he slowly tested his arms and lifted himself back above her. Giggling? Max didn’t giggle.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

Her smile was undeniable. “Don’t be. I’m flattered.”

She rubbed her ankles against the back of his calves, causing her slick muscles to contract as she did so. “Now if you were drunk, it would be another story altogether.”

Damn, but she was beautiful. The Max he knew, as well as the one he was coming—quiet literally—to know. Her sense of humor disarmed his horror at his quick draw … and her subtle shifting worked wonders on other areas of his anatomy.

Testing himself, he slowly withdrew. But when she might have rolled out from under him, he replaced the condom and thrust back in to the hilt, satisfied at her gasp and the way she arched her back.

He waited a moment for her to open her eyes. When she did, his grin was what greeted her.

“What?” he asked, leaning in to kiss her. “You didn’t think that was all there was?”

Her breasts trembled as he leaned in to take one of her pouty nipples into his mouth, then the other, swirling his tongue around the stiff nubs and then suckling them deeply, the control he was used to slipping gratefully back into place.

Oh, yeah. Now he was back on track. He kissed Max breathless and then stroked her both inside and out. This time he fully planned to be thorough about bringing her to orgasm, again and again and again …

5

MAX WAS SORE in places she hadn’t known she had. But rather than frowning, she had to fight to keep from grinning. In the company of her mom and aunt, it wasn’t wise to look too cheerful. They’d know something was up for sure and wouldn’t stop until they uncovered what. And Max didn’t plan to say anything to anybody about last night. Criminy, she was having a hard time convincing herself it had really happened …

It was midmorning and Jax had driven her home a few hours ago, well before her relatives had gotten out of bed so the story she told about Patience driving her home hadn’t sounded any alarms. That was a good thing, because in the years she’d been away from home her mom and aunt had become even nosier than they’d been before, grilling her for details on every aspect of her life … up to and including sex. It was a new approach that had left her slack-jawed on more than one occasion since she’d returned home five days ago.

She sat at the old Formica kitchen table, running her fingertips over her extra large mug of coffee and staring through the window in the direction of the Savage farm. She couldn’t see it from where she was sitting, but she gazed toward it anyway, wondering if Jax was up yet and whether or not he’d left to return to the city.

The old farmhouse Max grew up in had once belonged to her great-grandparents, who had built it plank by torturous plank (as her aunt told the story). Her aunt Theresa had inherited it twenty-five years ago, not without a little flack from family members, including Max’s mom. But Theresa had stood fast and laid claim to the house as her inheritance, seeing to the upkeep and leasing out the surrounding land to local farmers to help toward the upkeep. Some people in town said it had cost her her marriage, but Max knew better. Of course, it didn’t help that her cousins, Theresa’s two adult children, bought into the rumors. It was more than the distance between Aunt Theresa and Denver that kept them from seeing each other more than once a month.

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